


A machine for loving you.

by orphan_account



Series: Android Collection [2]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Robots & Androids, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blow Jobs, Bottom Kim Junmyeon | Suho, Choking, Eventual Smut, Finger Sucking, M/M, Robot/Human Relationships, Scars, Smut, Top Oh Sehun, android!oh sehun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-07
Updated: 2019-11-07
Packaged: 2021-01-25 01:22:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21347959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Junmyeon's life takes a bit of a turn when he stumbles upon an android. Taking him home to fix him might have been the best decision he’d ever made, but perhaps there was a little more to the android OSH-901 than he’d initially thought.
Relationships: Kim Junmyeon | Suho/Oh Sehun
Series: Android Collection [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1484738
Comments: 8
Kudos: 100





	A machine for loving you.

Junmyeon stood, very still. It was mid-September. A typhoon had passed through in the middle of the night, and there was still a strong wind that tugged at his brown curls. The river in front of him was completely different than in the daytime. The riverbed was filled with swirling muddy-brown water. He could almost feel in the soles of his shoes the pressure of the water that thundered as it struck the girders of the bridge.

If… If he jumped into that river now… then would the raging current wash everything away for him? Would it carry him to the place where his sister, father and mother were waiting?

He thought of the war that had taken everything from him— a storm of furious gunmetal violence, forever, until. He thought of killer robots, so-called _Androids_, who looked like humans, but operated on haze. A blur in human form.

Junmyeon gripped the railing strongly with both hands. Taking his eyes off the muddy-brown water, he looked up at the gray sky. Were his parents looking down at him in that very moment? If so, they might be shaking their heads in disappointment. He knew this was childish, that he shouldn't run away from his pain, that he should value his life when so many others have lost theirs but how could he go on like this, utterly alone—

Junmyeon flinched. There was a noise, not strange, but familiar, too familiar. It was a haunting sound— one that was more than often the last sound that a human was to hear: metallic sounding footsteps. It was almost funny. An android walks down the streets and goes _clip clop clip clop_, Junmyeon thought to himself. 

Taking a look over his shoulder, squinting into the darkness ahead, Junmyeon wondered if this would be the end of him. Through the cool blue and lilac glow that fell from the holographic signs lining the streets, the fat droplets beginning to pelt from the sky and the darkness that began to linger alongside the buildings, a figure was slowly approaching. Junmyeon tried to squint harder but he couldn't possibly tell if it was man or a machine. 

Slightly panicked, he took a glance down, into the howling river. He could always jump. Jump into the cold, unforgiving death. Junmyeon shuddered. Frantic, he took another look over his shoulder, eyes scanning the darkness. The figure was coming closer, slowly, and with each step it took, the droplets grew fatter.

This wasn't how he had planned it to be. Not like this. Jumping because of his suffering… he could excuse that. He wouldn't be the first man destroyed by war. But an android as his cause of death? A fire rose within Junmyeon. He couldn't run away. He had to face this... He'd rather die at the hands of an android then die out of fear of it. 

Junmyeon turned. Just mere five feet away from him, the figure had stopped walking. It's head was slightly hanging down, and his posture was lunched over, as if it was wounded. 

Junmyeon raised his eyebrows. “Hey, are you okay?” he asked, raising his voice so the figure would be able to hear him over the rain. Maybe it was a drunk man, or someone as equally lost as him. Maybe he could help—

Any word that might have been on Junmyeon's tongue just a second ago completely melted away as the figure raised it's eyes. Junmyeon gasped. Sheathed, the android was tall and lean anthropocentric ball bearings and jutting framework, eyes like two guns pointed at Junmyeon’s head, statuesque, emaciated, a little off.

Junmyeon felt something as he stared close-up at the androids eyes— he felt some sort of purpose concealed deep within the machine. An absolute logic of a different sort, far out of the reach of Junmyeon’s comprehension. Not the pitch-black eyes of the great white shark or the compound eyes of an insect with a metallic glitter, but eyes that concealed a much deeper, darker remoteness.

The android took a few steps, closing in on him, and Junmyeon noticed the blue blood dripping from those lips, behind it teeth, able to crush even a thick knife. Although Junmyeon knew he had to escape, his body didn’t move. He had to man up, fight this beast, this monster. And so he remained glued to the spot, chest heaving up and down. 

The machine took it's last step forward and grabbed for the raining of the bridge, it's forehead colliding with Junmyeon's shoulder, but it was a soft collision of some sorts, a soft, low groan that sounded like “grph” slipping from the depths of its mouth.

Junmyeon didn't dare to move. His whole body was numb with fear. His heart pounded so hard it was painful, and his breathing grew shallow. For a moment, a minute, an hour— Junmyeon couldn't be sure— they remained like this. Long enough for Junmyeon's heart to slow down and his mind to regain focus. He noticed the android's smell: a faint sweet scent of flowers, nothing like guns, death and war. Just flowers. 

Junmyeon's shoulders dropped. Nothing had happened to him yet— and there must be a reason for that. 

“You are hurt,” he heard himself saying, the wind carrying away most of his voice. But the android seemed to have understood. It tentatively lifted his head, searching for Junmyeon's eyes. Almost like a wounded animal, searching for help, Junmyeon thought.

Slowly, carefully, he placed a hand on the android's waist, right below it's rip cage. The android winced, but a moment later, it's eyes grew wide, glittering like a starry sky, twinkling with drops of water. It was just for an instant, but Junmyeon felt something humanlike in the android’s eye. It was the wavering a person felt simply because they were human during times when they were confused, distressed, or in pain.

“Can you help?” it asked: a mere whisper.

In that moment, breaking the android looked like it would be easy. He was so frail, so thin, all skin and bones and malice.

As teardrops spilled from the android’s eyes, Junmyeon gave a shaky smile and said, “I can try.”

* * *

There was something wrong in the way the machine looked while sitting in Junmyeon’s bath, the tailored, white shirt sticking to the wet skin of its shoulder and chest, wet black hair falling falling into its face, some strands touching the bow of its slightly parted lips.

There was something wrong, something dehumanizing, in the way the machine looked, wearing blood-stained designer clothes, hair styled and a firm, like a model in a grunge photoshoot.

“Does it hurt?” Junmyeon asked, as he poured water over the very fine skin.

The android’s body under the slick soap was nowhere soft or yielding, but taut like an elegantly sprung bow. He could feel the hardness under the skin, as if the machine’s muscles were permanently tensed and it’s blood was molten metal and it was waiting to spring open or snap shut. Cocked. There was a maximum softness capable of being exerted by all machinery.

The android didn't respond, only closed its eyes, long lashes touching the soft skin of its cheeks.

Junmyeon continued from shoulders to lower back. The spill of water wet his own chest and thighs, where it ran in rivulets, leaving behind suspended droplets that glimmered and threatened at any moment to trail suddenly downwards. The water was hot when it pulsed up from the ground, and hot when he poured it from the silver pitcher. The air felt hot too.

Junmyeon was conscious of it. He was conscious of the rise and fall of his chest, of his breathing, as he thinks of his head buried among plush thighs, and the machine’s lips, no more pink but red and bitten and parted in a moan. A pulse beat in his neck.

It was a poor time to lose control of his thoughts. He had now progressed far enough in his undertaking that he encountered curves. They were firm under his hands, and the soap made everything slippery. The synthetic skin felt real to the touch, and the hair shone with all the radiance of authentic, healthy locks found on humans.

The line of thick lashes that crossed and clumped lightly, the sculpt of the brows and face— it was the kind of complete beauty that couldn’t be found in factory perfect androids, modelled after the impossibly image of beauty humans always strived for. It confused Junmyeon, and made him wonder where the machine came from, why it had been out in the rain all by itself.

Then he noticed the scars. Thin lines, easily overlooked because of their white-silvery color. They were covering the androids entire back, running down to his hips. And there were even more scars etched along the backs of the android’s hands, trailing along as if something had raked a claw across the skin.

What happened to him? Junmyeon wondered, and for a moment a kind of shadow passed over him—something chilly, flapping like a sheet on a clothesline. He reached out, carefully, and let the pad of his forefinger touch the skin. The machine didn’t flinch.

“How could someone do this to you…?” he mumbled, more to himself than anything else. He thought about war. Faceless androids and faceless humans. None of them have had a spark of life within their eyes. This android... he couldn't have possibly fought in a war. His purpose must be a different kind.

Junmyeon caressed the scars with shaky fingers. “Who hurt you?” he asked. 

The machine laughed. It was a first-rate smile–the kind that has flowers opening up. How could it smile so beautifully? Junmyeon wondered. Alive but more than alive, dead but more than dead.

“I am a cathedral of scar tissue,” the android mumbled. Blue blood dripped from in between its teeth, dripping over full lips, down to its chin. 

Junmyeon followed the blood's movement, ignoring the heat-flushed fair skin, and those lashes hiding arctic blue eyes. He let his gaze wander downwards—wet from chest to taut abdomen—and further. It was really a very, very nice body. That reminded Junmyeon of its origin.

“Where’s your owner?” he asked.

The machine didn’t move. “I ran away from home.”

Junmyeon blinked. “What?”

“I ran away from home,” it repeated, slower. Firmer.

The machine looked so small and vulnerable in that moment, that Junmyeon forgot that it was just that: a machine. “You can stay here,” he heard himself say, ignoring the name tag at its neck: _OSH-901_.

* * *

The android was at work. Junmyeon didn’t know whether he missed the machine or not, but he thought of it as he sat there in the still kitchen. It worked at a place called Harmony Farm, packing eggs, it had said, and the tone of its voice made Junmyeon imagine dark labyrinths with rows of nests, a promenade of sad, dirty workers moving slowly through the passageways.

The machine wouldn’t talk about it when it got home. Often, it wouldn’t want to talk at all, wouldn’t want to be touched, would watch Junmyeon eat his supper, which itself wouldn’t eat. At night, it would lay on the left side of the bed, and he on the right, its breaths uneven and eyes tightly shut, its fists even tighter like the android wanted to fight the world.

After a month of sleeping in the same bed, Junmyeon had turned to his right on his side, the way he always did, and the machine had pressed up against him, tucking its right arm around his stomach. Junmyeon had been surprised by this, but once he overcame his initial discomfort, he found he liked it.

Like this, the android had moved in without really moving in. It didn’t have any belongings, not even clothes. Junmyeon’s oversized blouses and sweaters fit the android perfectly, the pants, however, were too short and always exposed a few inches of it’s ankles. Dressed like this, the android went to work every morning, only to come back home at night, showing no signs of exhaustion.

One day, Junmyeon thought, the machine wouldn’t come back. Or it might disappear in the night. He had awakened a few times: footsteps on the stairs, in the kitchen, the back door opening. From the upstairs window he had seen the android forcing its arm into the sleeve of its coat as it had walked down the driveway. The android's face had been strange in the pale brightness cast by the floodlights. The android’s breath had lifted up out of it in the cold and drifted like mist, trailing behind as it had moved into the darkness beyond the circle of porch light.

_I won’t be staying long_, the android would tell Junmyeon sometimes. And Junmyeon asked himself if that would bother him. Did he want the machine to live with him? Would he mind if it disappeared out of his life? He did want the machine’s lips and his hands on synthetic skin, but other than that? Died he want the machine? A broken machine, with its fissures and its cracks and its cold eyes?

Were they friends, Junmyeon and this android? He supposed. Since he’d spent so much time with it, he imagined that they were close in a way, but most of the time he didn’t really know what it was thinking.

One night at the kitchen table, Junmyeon decided to change that. “What were you before coming here?” he asked.

“Nothing,” the android answered.

Junmyeon shook his head. “Nothing exists for no reason. You must have your own.”

“You should’ve asked my creator.” The android’s voice hardened, not soft and lost but shrill and sharp, like a crystal dagger.

“And where is he?” Junmyeon asked. “Your creator.”

“I made her cease to exist,” the android said, voice cold and biting.

It came as a blow, this information—this death. Junmyeon was surprised at how heavily it settled over him. “Why did you kill your creator?”

The android probably sensed Junmyeon’s surprise at the sudden confession and clicked it’s tongue. “It mattered to me.”

“Why?”

The android blinked and scrunched his nose. At that moment, there was something in its eyes that made Junmyeon feel sad—a shifting, trapped look, the kind of expression you might have when you reached the dead end of a maze for the third or fourth time.

“Is that important?”

“Shouldn’t it be?” Junmyeon asked softly, and hesitated. “Or were you made for that?”

The android chirped a brow. “I probably shouldn’t have told you that,” it said. “It’s not like . . . something I dwell on. I’m not trying to make you feel sorry for me. And to answer your second question, yes, I suppose you could say that I was made for killing. But I have many purposes.”

“Ok, then,” Junmyeon said, and paused: a shudder. “Tell me about your life as a machine.”

“I was made. I was taught.”

“What were you taught?”

The machine rolled it’s tongue over sharp teeth and smiles dryly. “I was taught everything.”

“Everything?”

“Singing, dancing, fighting, cooking,” it explained. “Music, photography, gardening, medicine, history, astro physics, architecture, love–”

Junmyeon blinked. “Love?”

“Yes, love.”

“Can love be taught like a language?”

“Love is a language,” the android deadpanned, and there was such passion in his tone, something in Junmyeon’s chest clenched. It shouldn’t be so— so emotive! This… he’d never seen anything like this. It was like he was talking and interacting with a real human; it felt surreal.

“Your creator, did she teach you that?” Junmyeon asked, eyes wide as they swept over the android’s form. Everything seemed to be running fine, normal, but… was this normal? In this world and society, no. But was this normal for the machine? Had it always been like this? Were these detailed emulations, or had something in his programming mutated to allow it to feel genuine emotions? Junmyeon’s mind was reeling.

“You did. Every mother, every child, every passerby on the street, every stray and wandering dog.”

“You sound like a romantic.”

The machine’s head tilted, dark doe eyes holding Junmyeon’s own as the ring around its iris ran soft blue. “I was born a romantic.”

Junmyeon’s mouth parted; he didn’t have a response to that. The android was quick to read his expression and attempted to decipher it.

“There’s romance in violence too.” The android had said that almost gently, but Junmyeon noticed the forced calmness in it’s voice.

“Is that why you killed your creator?” he asked. “As an act of love?”

“No,” the android said and shook its head. “There was no higher purpose behind it. When I took that life, I took nothing of value.”

Junmyeon was surprised at its words, his eyes widening a little. “I see,” he muttered.

The android shuffled, and Junmyeon wondered if it was possibly feeling discomfort of some sort. He’d seen the machine display some emotions— were they limited? Could it only feel a set amount?

“Now that you have established that I was designed to do harm, do you have any other questions?” it asked.

“Do you consider yourself human?” asked Junmyeon, looking at the machine before him; not alive, but moving; not moving, but alive. Squishy organs in a steel carapace. A puppet on strings, still walking when snipped. Strong. Resilient. Impervious to pain. And yet here it sat, all pink soft lips and long lashes.

“Being human is a state of mind. I consider myself alive, but being alive doesn’t mean I am human.”

Junmyeon couldn’t help the sad smile that tugged his lips. “Some would argue that being made of metal means not being human.”

The android laughed, and the barest hint of mischief gleamed in eyes that flickered between lilac and pink. “Some people would say the earth is not round. I have been part of humanity since I was first built, if I want it or not.”

Junmyeon frowned. Everything that the android was saying seemed like a riddle of some sort. “What is it then that makes you human?”

“Machines can be built. Consciousness can only be born,” the android deadpanned.

Junmyeon fell silent. He looked at the machine sitting in the seat in front of him, its pink lips, and thin nose. And of course the scars, running all over its hands. He would like to kiss them all. It’s actually easy to picture himself kissing them all, taking his time to unravel the android and put him back together.

“Why did you kill your creator?”

The android bit its lip. The pink tissue seemed to be soft, and Junmyeon wondered how it would feel like to kiss it, to bite the fragile skin and suck the lower lip between his teeth.

“Will you answer me a question of my own if I tell you?” the machine asked, and Junmyeon nodded. He had nothing to hide. Well, besides his not so innocent thoughts.

“She was my mother.”

Junmyeon frowned. He still didn’t understand. “Did you hate her?”

“Who doesn’t hate the person to blame for their existence? Just a little?” the machine replied, now grinning at him. “But it’s not your turn to ask questions,” it added.

“Then ask.”

“Why didn’t you report me that day? You could have, since I was badly wounded and I’m sure you had a phone with you. But instead–”

“Instead I brought you home.” Junmyeon smiled a sad smile.

“You cleaned me up. Treated my wounds. And you never asked me to leave.” The machine sounded almost angry as it said this.

Junmyeon frowned. "Do you regret being alive?" he asked. “Would you have preferred if I had let you die?”

It took a moment for the machine to respond.

"― What?" it said vaguely. “That day, I’d mostly given up. Giving up means the end of you. I knew that. But there was no way anyone would help me, or lend me a hand― that’s what I honestly thought. I couldn’t ask for help, I had nowhere to run.... I…” The machine slowly shook its head. "No, I don’t regret. I just don’t understand it."

Junmyeon bit his lip. He wanted to reach out and hold the machine, which looked so much like a small little boy in that moment. A boy that was hurt, treated like a unloved toy, mistreated his whole life. Junmyeon shuddered as he imagined what kind of life the android must have lived.

“I am not a cruel man,” he explained. “Even if you aren’t made out of blood and bones, what gives me the right to hurt you? You have done nothing wrong to me. That night, I encountered a lost individual. Someone without a home or a future. That’s all I could see looking at you.”

It was simple. It was the truth.

The android twitched. Something like blue blush appeared on its cheeks. “I’m not sure if I’m that someone that you met that night.” It remained silent for a moment, looked down on its hands, dragged a finger over the scars. “To my mother, I was both: evil and pure.”

A small laugh escaped the machines lips and Junmyeon could feel his insides clench. “Do you want to be defined by her?” he asked.

The android’s lips trembled. “Not at all,” he said faintly, voice almost trembling. It’s emotions seemed to raw and real, it was hard to believe it was a machine.

“Then choose to define yourself,” Junmyeon said. “What is that you want to be?”

“I don’t know.” The machine looked helpless. It’s eyes were full of tears. “I know that I don’t desire to be owned. I don’t desire to be someone’s object. I want to be a person.”

“Then be a person.” Junmyeon shrugged mildly; he didn’t want to argue, he didn’t want the machine to be more upset than it already seemed.

The machine’s lips quivered. “You make it sound so easy,” it half-whispered. “How am I supposed to know how it works?”

Junmyeon snorted against his own will. He leaned forward and it took all his self control to keep his hands on his sides, away from the machine and to keep his heart inside his chest, away from the machine.

“There’s no way to know. Look around you, most humans are just as lost as you are right now. Some drink, some party, other’s have relationships so they can escape this question. But, at some point, all of us end up being awake at 3 am, lying in our beds, asking ourselves who we really are.”

He sighed, and reached out— having lost his internal battle— and softly placed his hand above the machine’s. Its skin was surprisingly warm, but soft. “If you want to be a person, then be a person. Live. Breathe. And in the end, will it even matter if you are really a person by nature or not? If you’re living happily, the way you want to, why even torture yourself with that question?”

The machine didn’t move; it didn’t avoid Junmyeon’s gaze. “Sometimes there is love in suffering too.”

* * *

Junmyeon liked having a roommate, but the android was just too human-like. First of all, there was its voice. There was no loudspeaker cheaply buried in its chest, but instead it formed sounds with breath, tongue, teeth and palate. His voice was warm, and easily became Junmyeon’s new favourite sound, making his heart skip whenever it greeted him good morning or lazily mumbled good night against his chest.

Then, of course, there was its lifelike skin, warm to the touch and as smooth as a child’s. Sometimes Junmyeon wishes he could be selfish. He could just extend a hand and touch the android the way he wants. He could. But the machine precious and fragile, and Junmyeon doesn’t want to frighten it. But he did want to push his dick between soft, pink lips, seeing the mouth stretch around his member, and he did imagine it sometimes, how the machine would like on its knees, with teary-eyes and mouth all busy.

The android was not a sex toy. However, Junmyeon knew it was capable of sex and possessed functional mucous membranes, in the maintenance of which it consumed half a litre of water each day. And he wondered sometimes if the android was capable of feeling desire; did it have sexual fantasies?

Those thoughts made it really hard for Junmyeon to live with his new roommate. The android didn’t seem shy; it took showers without closing the door, afterwards walking around with all of its wet skin exposed, and it looked so sexy and adorable at the same time.

Even at early mornings, when Junmyeon’s hair looked like a bird nest and his eyes were dark and tired, the android sat before him without a sign of exhaustion, perfectly shining hair and perfect rosy skin, soft pink lips slightly opened, blue eyes sparkling with life: the ultimate plaything, the dream of ages, the triumph of humanism – or its angel of death. Exciting beyond measure, but frustrating too.

One night, when the android had cuddled close once again, spreading long limbs around Junmyeon’s body, pressing its nose into Junmyeon’s nape, Junmyeon noticed something he hadn’t paid attention too: a small vibration. There was, by the android’s left breast, a regular pulse, steady and calm, about one a second by Junmyeon’s inexperienced guess.

How reassuring. This simulation had an effect. Junmyeon’s doubts faded just a little. He felt even more protective towards the machine, even as he knew how absurd it was. He stretched out his hand and slowly laid it over the android’s heart and felt against his palm its calm, iambic tread.

Junmyeon sensed he was violating its private space. These vital signs were easy to believe in. The warmth of its skin, the firmness and yield of the muscle below it – Junmyeon’s reason said plastic or some such, but his touch responded to flesh.

After that night, it got even harder to see the machine as just that: a machine. He couldn’t fool himself any longer, couldn’t look at it as an inanimate confection whose heartbeat was a regular electrical discharge, whose skin warmth was mere chemistry; a system that gave a semblance of breath, but not of life. Instead, Junmyeon eventually gave up and let himself see the android as a boy.

Maybe that’s why it came to such a shock, when the android came home one day, hurt. It was past after midnight, and awoken by a noise, Junmyeon stepped in the kitchen. Through the north-facing window, the diminishing light picked out the outlines of just one half of the androids form, one side of it’s noble face. The only sounds were the friendly murmur of the fridge and a muted drone of traffic.

As Junmyeon reached for the light switch he said, "How are you?"

The android looked away to consider his reply. "I don’t feel right."

This time its tone was flat. It seemed the question had lowered its spirits. But within such microprocessors, what spirits?

“What’s wrong?”

“This wire. If I pull it out it will hurt.”

Junmyeon’s belly made a flip. “I’ll do it and it won’t hurt,” he heard himself saying, taking a few steps toward the android. A part of his brain was screaming at him, telling him that the android was only acting as though it felt pain, that he was being manipulated, being forced to react as it was too difficult not to, too starkly pitched against the drift of human sympathies.

But still, Junmyeon was so worried, felt a crushing weight on his chest as he looked at the lost boy who stood in his kitchen. Even though the rational part of his brain knew that the android couldn’t be capable of being hurt, or of having feelings, or of any sentience at all, he had asked it how it felt. He was playing a computer game. But a real game, as real as social life, the proof of which was his heart’s refusal to settle and the dryness in his mouth.

The android didn’t flinch when Junmyeon disengaged the wire. It’s tight, chiselled features showed nothing at all. A forklift truck approaching a pallet would have been as expressive. Then, Junmyeon supposed, some logic gate or a network of them yielded and the machine whispered, “Thank you.” These words were accompanied by an emphatic nod of the head.

“No need to thank me,” Junmyeon muttered, focused on the line of the android’s jaw, overcome with need to kiss and bite it.

The boy blushed a beautiful blue, and Junmyeon wanted to tiptoe and reach up, finally finding out what color the android’s lips could become after a kiss. Instead of pushing the android on it’s knees, he wants to kneel down himself, making the machine go mad with his hands and tongue. He wants to steal every moan, every breath, every cry from it’s lips.

“What happened?” Junmyeon asked the android. “Did you get into a fight with someone?”

The machine’s gaze travelled from Junmyeon’s eyes to the ground and back. Junmyeon still didn’t know whether it actually saw anything. An image on some internal screen that no one was watching, or some diffused circuitry to orient it’s body in three-dimensional space? Seeming to see could be a blind trick of imitation, a social manoeuvre to fool humans into projecting onto it a human quality. But Junmyeon couldn’t help it: when their eyes briefly met and he looked into the blue irises flecked with spears of black, the moment appeared rich with meaning, with anticipation.

“Most humans are repulsed by the sigh of us,” the android muttered. “It’s only natural that some of them will leave their frustrations out on my body.”

Junmyeon’s thoughts were racing. Curiosity, the forbidden fruit. He leaned up a bit, aware that what he was trying to do was crazy. “You don’t seem repulsive at all,” he said, eyes focused on two, soft-looking lips.

“How do I seem to you then?”

“You make me feel tender. Like looking at a child, or a puppy.” He reached up and cupped the machine’s face with his right hand. It’s blue cheek felt hot and the machine left out a tiny sigh at the touch.

“You’re so beautiful, it’s driving me crazy,” Junmyeon muttered. Everything about the machine was - it’s eyes, hands, scars, the curve of it’s shoulders and the liquid grace of it’s movements. The way his lips parted was pretty as well, and when it’s lower lip began to tremble, Junmyeon lost all self control. He buried his fingers in synthetic hair – soft and thin to the touch – pulling the machine toward him.

And the machine let him, offering itself, not even aware of what it was offering, how much Junmyeon wanted this and how much he has waited to do this (since the first time they met, actually.)

The android’s lips are just as soft as Junmyeon had expected, and he presses his own firmly against them, only to release them a second after. They stand like this for a second, heads so close together that their noses were touching, Junmyeon being aware of the machine’s warm breath on his skin, both of their lips trembling with desire.

Junmyeon could see the android’s spit on its pink lower lip, waiting, waiting for his tongue, and he leaned in once more, this time more eager and demanding, sucking the lower lip in, kissing and biting, dragging his tongue over and between.

His head was spinning from the kissing alone, but when the android moaned – yes, moaned, a sigh: long and drawn out – as he digged his fingers deeper into the hair, pulling it as he liked, Junmyeon could feel heat surging down his belly, making his dick spring to life.

He licked inside of the android’s mouth, tasting everything he could, dragging tongue over teeth and tongue, a new sensation making his member down in his pants crave friction. The android made a soft sobbing noise as Junmyeon drew back, bringing some distance between them.

It was a beautiful sight to see: the machine’s lips swollen and red, it’s blue eyes dark with desire and eyebrows drawn together in an attempt to convince Junmyeon to rethink his decision and kiss the machine once more.

“Follow me,” Junmyeon half-moaned, dragging the machine by it’s hand to the bedroom. The android seemed to have other plans, not as submissive as Junmyeon would have liked, and laid it’s hands on Junmyeon’s hips as soon as they arrived at the bed, almost violently turning Junmyeon around, making their lips collide.

The machine’s kisses were desperate, full of teeth and loud moans. It held Junmyeon in place – both hands cupping his face, thumbs pressing into the soft skin of his cheeks. Junmyeon’s member was just as desperate and eager, and just kissing almost began to hurt.

Junmyeon grabbed for the android’s shirt, and pushed it impossibly closer, causing the android to lose balance, nearly toppling Junmyeon to the ground and they ended up on the bed, mess of limbs and hair and pulled shirts.

As he let his eyes slip down, glancing for just a moment at the way the android's large hand was splayed out right at the top of his thigh, dangerously close to the inner seam of his jeans, Junmyeon experimentally dragged his finger's across the machine's crotch and felt a sense of proudness as the machine hisses in response.

Something flickered across the android’s features for a moment, but instead of pulling back or moving away, it stilled completely. Junmyeon’s fingers twitched and he shakily pressed down into the clothed flesh, allowing his hand to very, very slowly slide slightly upward. He watched the machine’s face while doing so, desperately looking for a signal. A signal to stop, a signal that this is a bad idea, or even a signal to go, go, go.

The machine moved to straddle Junmyeon's thigh now, it’s own leg pressed hard into Junmyeon's crotch and before he can register what's happening he felt the android roll it’s hips down. Their foreheads were pressed together again, almost angrily so, and Junmyeon felt the android’s sigh into his mouth at the contact and it rolled its hips down again.

And again, and again, the android keeps pressing down into his thigh, rubbing his clothed erection against Junmyeon's leg, rubbing its own thigh against Junmyeon’s member.

Junmyeon groaned, letting his hand slide up the side of the android’s thigh until his fingers rest just a hair's width away from the curve of his ass. He squeezed again and when the android made a sort of high pitched whimper, he lost the final bit of self-control and moved up smoothing his hands over soft cheeks, squeezing, and pulling them slightly apart.

After a few more desperate moments, Junmyeon pressed his hands at the machine’s sides, flipping it over on its back and dragging its jeans down its long legs. While doing so, his hands were a shaking mess, and it took him a second to open the zipper. The flesh of the android's thigh is soft and pliant and he couldn't help but lean down for a moment, to kiss and bite the synthetic skin there, leaving red marks all over the android’s thighs.

The android moaned at every touch, its legs quivering whenever Junmyeon sucked the soft skin into his mouth. It looked flustered like this, propped up by its arms behind it and legs bent slightly at the knees, and Junmyeon's cock was pulsing at the sight of the android willingly spreading its legs.

When he had enough of its thighs, he closed distance between them, pressing their groins firmly together, groaning at finally getting that much needed friction. The machine wrapped its hands around Junmyeon's neck to help steady itself, while still frantically rolling its hips, sighing out every time it did so.

Junmyeon pressed into the machine, crushing their clothed erections so unbelievably close together, rubbing and moaning uncontrollably. He could feel the machine’s precum which was now leaking through both their underwear and became impatient. In a swift move, he reached down and pulled his own underwear down, letting his member slap against his abs.

He wanted to fuck the android, violently, without holding back, but instead, Junmyeon reached out, and softly lifted the android’s hand to his face, trailing his lips over the bumps and grazes of the white scars, careful with his administrations as if the scars were still mending.

He then went on to suck the android’s index finger into this mouth, rolling his tongue over it, slightly sucking, the movement of his tongue slow and relaxed. The android moaned and Junmyeon was about to lean down and start sucking something else but the machine didn’t let him– it gently pressed his knuckle into Junmyeon's mouth, brushing up against his tongue to urge him to keep sucking.

Then something changed. The android pulled its finger out of Junmyeon’s mouth, letting it’s hand trail down, now embracing Junmyeon’s throat. At first, it was just a gentle squeeze, then his grip grew strong enough to block Junmyeon’s oxygen supply.

Junmyeon was sure he could already feel bruises blooming on his skin, and he felt dizzy and breathless. No human could be so strong, deadly and hypnotizing. Magnetic. Mesmerizing. His brain was lacking oxygen, everything was getting blurry, icy blue eyes the only clear thing.

Then, just as Junmyeon was about to pass out, the grip loosened and he collapsed forward, gasping and panting, hands shakily wiping away the tears. And saliva. Junmyeon’s hands raised to his neck, the tender skin there sending jolts of pain upon the lightest of touch. He winced slightly, watching his member twitch in excitement.

“I didn’t want to—”, the machine started but Junmyeon shut it up with his lips. What followed was more messy kissing and moaning, until Junmyeon couldn’t bear it any longer and let his hands wander, first, playing with the machine’s sensitive nipples by rubbing and squeezing them, then kissing, sucking and biting them.

The android was breathless now too, it’s body covered in sweat and huge erection stretching the fabric of it’s underwear. Noticing the impatient member, head already poking out— a sight that was not only shocking but also very arousing, making Junmyeon imagine what could be done with such a long, and thick object— Junmyeon reached down, letting his thin fingers slip under.

The android groaned at the touch and pushed its waist up, and Junmyeon had to smirk. He gently pulled the skin up over the head and earned a broken moan in response. Not wanting to make the machine wait any longer, he let his fingers curl around the tip and then moved downwards, squeezing a bit.

The member was warm, and Junmyeon was able to feel individual veins as he let his hand move up and down, moving his wrists is a swift motion. The android’s moans became louder, and precum kept running over Junmyeon’s hand, serving as lube.

“You’re so big,” Junmyeon mumbled before getting on his knees, butt in air and head leaned over the android’s body. “I’ve never seen someone that big…”

He licked his tongue out, licking up the drop of precum leaking from the tip, and the android let out a drawn out moan. He slowed his pace, dragging the foreskin up and squeezing just enough below the tip to pop the hidden ridge. It was practically staring him down, this red and weeping cock, daring Junmyeon to take it in his mouth, and he wasn’t one to back down from a challenge.

Junmyeon licked up the precum, teasing the slit with a few swirls of his tongue, before taking the whole head into his mouth. The machine’s groan could probably be heard halfway across town as Junmyeon took the member in a little at a time, his hand still gripping the shaft and working it up as he relaxed his jaw. His tongue traced the veins it could find and Junmyeon humed when the machine’s hand worked its way into his hair.

It took Junmyeon a moment to realize the machine was murmuring encouragements, telling him how good it feels, how sweet his mouth is. Junmyeon pays particular attention to the spots the foreskin left exposed, making note of the kinds of gasps and whines of pleasure the machine made when his tongue ran circles along the skin.

When he let his hand drop to fondle the balls, the machine’s hand in his hair tightens and it hisses out a soft, “Fuck–” but nothing prepared Junmyeon for the cry the machine let out when he takes the member in fully, the head of the cock brushing the back of his throat.

He bopped his head up and down a few times more, but he didn’t want the android come just yet, so he eventually stopped, pushing his fingers between the machine’s swollen lips. At first it seemed surprised but it didn’t seem to mind the intrusion, letting Junmyeon freely move his fingers around and even dragging it’s tongue - wet and breathily warm, adept at uvulars and labials - over Junmyeon’s fingers.

When enough spit had formed, Junmyeon pulled them out and pushed a soaked finger against his own rim, circling, nibbing, until finally he pushed hard enough to exceed the threshold of resistance, slipping inside himself.

He easily pushed another inside, now scissoring himself, stretching his whole as good as he could. When he felt like it was enough, Junmyeon climbed on top of the machine, pecking its lips one last time, before nervously reaching for its cock, positioning it so that he just needed to slowly move down.

“So thick,” he mumbles, moving against the cock, trying to get it inside of him. The machine’s strong hands come to rest at his side, gently holding his waist up, and Junmyeon could feel the hot tip protruding into himself: it was soft and wet, and when he pushed down further, he could feel it disappear into himself, his whole swallowing the veiny, throbbing cock slowly.

The stretch was everything. The machine pushed him down further, his whole swallowing it all, until Junmyeon was sure he’s going to explode, the feel of the cock gliding against his walls better than he ever could have dreamed. He began to move his hips in circles, moaning at the new sensation, but the machine seemed to have other plans.

Hands still on Junmyeon’s hips, the machine knocked him flat on his back as it picked up the pace. Junmyeon let out a small cry of surprise, but even so his hands flew up to the machine’s back, his nails digging in as he, too, gave in to his baser instincts.

The machine pounded into Junmyeon, reveling in the feel of him writhing underneath and the pleasure coursing through its veins; Junmyeon’s nails scored down its back and the machine barely restrained a howl as he fought to roll them over but it wouldn’t have it. Junmyeon bit its shoulder, fighting against the weight keeping him under the android, and it bit Junmyeon’s lip in return, sucking it into his mouth with a sloppy kiss.

Seemingly knowing exactly where to go too, the machine pounded straight for the prostate, the P spot, the LOUD button on Junmyeon’s pumping stereophonic fuck system, endorphins spitting through his brain at an unheard of rate, as muscles in his groin almost painfully contracted in a handful of heart stomping spasms.

He exploded. A stream of white flying across the machine’s belly up to its chest, strings of the stuff dripping off its red nipples, some of it leading as far as it’s face, one gob of it on the android’s chin, another on it’s lower lip. The android smiled, started to slow down, now thrusting deep into Junmyeon, and then opened it’s mouth as if to sigh, only the android didn't sigh, no sound, not even a breath, just its moon bright teeth, and finally its tongue licking first its upper lip before turning to its lower lip.

Junmyeon watched as the android tasted his cum, and moaned in surprise of the wet feeling inside of him as the android let go itself. He had a weird realization in that moment, laying like that underneath the android, full of it’s cum, his body still overwhelmed with his orgasm, his lips trembling and eyes leaking water. He loved the machine.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this when I was completely obsessed with androids (due to a video game called Detroit: Become Human). I couldn't help but to imagine Sehun as one, since he gives off that vibe to me- perfect looks, cold facial impressions... you know, what I mean. Anyways, I sat down and wrote this Drabble in a rush. I hope y'all enjoyed it nevertheless!


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